


We Won't Be Falling

by Ms_Nahi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood and Injury, Eventual Romance, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Gladiator Matt, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Porn with Feelings, VLD Angst Bang 2019, Xenobiology, implied major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Nahi/pseuds/Ms_Nahi
Summary: The fighter ‘Matt’ isn’t exactly popular. He’s far from what the public wants to see, which is brutal force and strength. That’s what Shiro is here to witness though. That’s what caught his eyes. Shiro knows fighting he’s been a gladiator all his life. Coming to the arena bores him because all these new fighters are the same, trained by the same Galra he had met in his career, wishing to be as strong as The Champion, mirroring his own techniques without understanding his style. This one is different. The red-haired human uses his brain to win. He examines his environment, his adversary, uses whatever resources there are to stay alive, and he’s fast. If anything, he resembles Shiro more than any so-called gladiator that admires him.In which, Shiro is a Galra and only Matt and his father have been captured during the Kerberos mission. Lonely men find each other and they try to find a way to rescue Sam, and possibly themselves as well.
Relationships: Matt Holt/Shiro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29
Collections: VLD Angst Bang 2019





	We Won't Be Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Please be mindful of the tags ^^

The sound of the crowd is deafening, but Matt can’t hear them over the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears and rushing at incredible speed with the adrenaline. He’s panting, covered with sweat and that mineral that resembles Earth’s sand. Blood also, two different colors, one red, dark as it’s drying fast under the arena’s heavy spotlights and another, blueish that belonged to his opponent, now dead at his feet. 

It still makes his stomach lurch, but he’s finally stopped throwing up after his victories. A term he prefers to use as a means of self-protection. For his own sanity, it’s best to count your victories rather than the number of innocent souls you’ve killed. Well, maybe not all of them were innocent, but a life is a life. It should be valued. Except in this part of the galaxy, it’s not a crime to take one's life; it’s a sport. The most revered one, on top of that, and Matt is surprisingly good at it. Matt has traveled the Galra Empire and seen probably every single arena in this quadrant as he keeps on winning. 

Which shouldn’t be possible if you listen to every bookmaker and specialist. Matt started off as a frail and delicate human, barely a man, with glasses and a goofy attitude; but when your life is at stake, you drop the act and let your survival instinct keep you alive. 

Now, under the uproar of thousands of battle-thirsty Galra and other species colonized by the Empire, he stands, breathless, his long ginger hair tied with a ribbon made out of a shirt he tore at some point, a scar under his left eye adorning his face, and lean muscles hidden under the regulation tunic every low-rank fighter has to wear. His had seen better days, replaced countless times, but tonight he’ll get a new one. He’ll even be given a new title. He’ll be a Renzan. It’s his first victory in the main arena, his first step to climb the Galran social ladder, to get some power and hopefully discover his father’s whereabouts. Maybe to plan an escape as well but he doesn’t dare to hope too much, for now.

*

There aren’t many private boxes in Zarkon’s arena. There’s one for the Emperor and family, of course, even one just for his son, Lotor. There are some for a few chosen higher-ups–generals, and admirals–there’s The Champion’s box. In terms of deca-phoebs, it has been a long time since it was last occupied and even now, The Champion doesn’t grace it with his presence as much as the people would want. It tires him: the fights, the fame, the fake smiles he has to put on for pictures, but it’s an honor, and Shiro humors the Empire with the best of his rusty social abilities. 

Tonight, though, he’s here with a purpose. He’s here to watch this new species Sendak has captured on Kerberos and sent to fight, sure to be rid of quickly and easily, only to be proven wrong. 

The fighter ‘Matt’ isn’t exactly popular. He’s far from what the public wants to see, which is brutal force and strength. That’s what Shiro is here to witness though. That’s what caught his eyes. Shiro knows fighting he’s been a gladiator all his life. Coming to the arena bores him because all these new fighters are the same, trained by the same Galra he had met in his career, wishing to be as strong as The Champion, mirroring his own techniques without understanding his style. This one is different. The red-haired human uses his brain to win. He examines his environment, his adversary, uses whatever resources there are to stay alive, and he’s fast. If anything, he resembles Shiro more than any so-called gladiator that admires him.

*

There’s always a party after the event, Shiro usually forces himself to go and always ends up crowded by admiring people and Lotor, Zarkon’s heir. If Shiro were a man of power, it would be easy to access it. Lotor has always been head over heels for him, even if the Prince claims to his court that he just wants a good fuck with the strongest Galra he had ever seen. Shiro though has no interest in power and even less in the obnoxious Prince. He barely tolerates his presence, honestly, but he can’t just do whatever he wishes even when he’s The Champion of the Empire. The title gives him a lot of advantages, but he can't just punch the Emperor’s kin, a shame really because Lotor seriously needs someone to knock some sense into his head.

Tonight, though, Shiro will use his rank to the fullest. Not only will he skip the reception but he has ordered Matt to be brought to his quarters.

The main arena being on Zarkon’s Central Command System ship, the lower decks are for the beasts, fighters and/or prisoners; but the higher decks are for the rich and powerful ones. That’s where Shiro lives. In large quarters with a living room, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a spare room he transformed into some sort of a gym. There’s no kitchen because all his meals are brought to him by the Emperor’s personal chef. 

There isn’t much in terms of decoration; Shiro already finds the room a bit too much for his taste. Heavy and soft purple carpet, dark walls highlighted by the pink light that he’s so sick of. It’s a Galra thing, and he’s Galra for sure—there’s no mistake on that part—but Shiro longs for something else. Even as The Champion, he feels just as trapped as he was when he started fighting, and every single thing surrounding him is a reminder of what he has pledged allegiance to, just by being born. The Empire. Always and forever the Empire. 

He is sipping Altean nunvil when his door chimes: the guards bringing their ‘package’ with them. They push a cleaned-up and changed Matt inside. He falls onto the floor with his arms tied behind his back. 

“That will be all,” Shiro says sternly as he glances at the human. The guards leave, whispering 'good luck' to Matt with a knowing smirk, still sniggering as the main door finally closes. 

“They say you’re gonna rip me in two, fuck me so hard my glorious career as a fighter will end in your bed.” Matt’s bitter snarly voice tickles Shiro’s ears.

“If that’s your wish,” Shiro answers, swirling the alcohol in the glass he looks at, rather than the human now kneeling on the floor. “But I would bet a lot of GACs that it isn’t.” A discreet smile pulls the corner of his lips up as he turns his head back toward the human. 

Matt stays silent; he examines his ‘host’ carefully like Shiro knows he will do. Matt has seen his fair share of Galra by now, but this one seems rather big. He can’t guess his size since he’s sitting, or more slouching on his couch, but The Champion is tall and looks massive. Unlike most Galra, his fur is a light shade of mauve and his ears are mostly black at the tips. A part of his left ear is missing, as if… bitten off. Many other things differ massively from his fellow compatriots: the scar crossing the bridge of his nose, for example, or his grey eyes that respond well, to the white tuft of fur on top of his head. Matt can’t see very well from where he is, but something else feels ‘off’ on the Galra’s body. 

“Fancy place you have here,” Matt whistles as he continues to scan his surroundings: for a way out, for a tool to defend himself, for information, anything. 

“Not what I would have gone for, but thanks.” Shiro finally stands up and stops in front of Matt, who raises his head so high it hurts his stiff neck, but it’s either this—watching the guy’s crotch—or the floor, and he’s neither that desperate nor that submissive. It surprises him, though, when the Galra leans down to help Matt get up and unties his arms. 

The human could engage Shiro in a fight now that he’s free, but if Shiro’s suspicions are true, the man is intelligent. Indeed, he just stays still, their eyes locking after a brief flash of curiosity in Matt’s. 

“Ah, this?” Shiro moves his right arm into view between them and brushes the soft metal with his left hand. “A ‘gift’ from the High Priestess, Empress Haggar herself when I lost my arm in a fight. It’s a beautiful piece of technology, you see…” He activates it, his right hand turning purple until the metal casing holds a plasma blade that he swirls delicately.

Matt is not stupid. It serves as a warning as much as it serves as a demonstration, nevertheless, the scientist he once was is fascinated by the machine itself and he’d love to open it and study it. “Must be handy at a barbecue” he snorts, not to give away too much of his excitement. The Galra tilts his head, blinks, and for the first time, Matt seems to lose some of his balance in this violent world he’s been living in now because The Champion looks… cute.

“What’s a barbecue?” Shiro asks, his giant cat-like ears perking with genuine curiosity, powering off the blade that cast a delicate but dangerous pink on both their faces. 

“It’s a hm… It’s when you invite friends and grill meat and vegetables?” Matt’s thankful for the universal translator he got when he was first kidnapped because he realizes now that apart from basic questions and orders he’s been given, this is probably the longest conversation he’s ever had. Explaining the concept of barbecue in Galra isn’t an ability he’s had the chance to acquire, sitting all alone in his prison cell. The realization of his loneliness suddenly threatens to pour out from every pore of his body, and he takes a deep breath to calm down. He’s been strong in front of everyone up until now; he can’t fall apart. 

Shiro goes back to sit and with a gesture of his flesh hand, invites Matt to sit as well. The human seems shaken up but he does so, keeping a leery expression. 

“I don’t want you any harm, as surprising as it sounds,” Shiro chuckles, taking his glass back to knock out the last of the burning alcohol in it. “Do you know who I am?” he wonders but it leaves a bad taste in his mouth; he hates asking this like he’s some conceited jerk but he doesn’t know the extent of Matt’s knowledge. 

“They say you're The Champion,” Matt answers with a shrug as he gets comfortable. He’s still on the lookout, but something in the way Shiro’s ears move helps him lose some tension in his posture. Truth is, he knows this Galra is revered and adored like a God, admired by every guard he meets. He’s as famous as he is mysterious, so every kind of rumor goes around about him because there’s nothing and no one to deny or confirm them. Apart from that, that’s pretty much what he knows.

“I am. But I’m also just a Galra that was lucky enough to survive as long as I did. Before being The Champion, I was Shiro.” Shiro makes a face. Too many forget that he has a name. Nobody uses it and it feels like losing his identity. “I want you to always call me that way,” and it’s not open to debate. It’s an order.

Matt looks at him wide-eyed; he shouldn’t be granted that privilege. Ever since his first fight, he has had time to learn how the games work, how the hierarchy goes, and what is fine or forbidden when addressing people. “I can’t do that, if someone hears me, they’ll just throw me into open space!”

“You’re intelligent, Matt. You should know I mean this only when it will be just the two of us.” Shiro smirks as his body turns toward Matt ever so slightly. Shiro shouldn’t use Matt’s name either, but he’s The Champion. He has the right to bend some rules. 

Shiro’s words ring in Matt’s head. He will meet Shiro more than this one instance? Immediately he has to ask, “Why wouldn’t this be the only time we meet?”

The Galra gives a long appreciative look at Matt, that smirk still plastered on his lips, his smile even growing enough for Matt to glimpse Shiro’s fangs. Matt can’t say he’s disgusted by that glimpse of hunger in Shiro’s silver eyes. He should be, but the Galra is actually breathtaking now that Matt takes a second to really look at him. Not that he is into furry aliens, but from his beauty standards and the Galra he’s seen up until now, Shiro is on a whole other level. 

“I could die in my next fight,” Matt adds for good measure because it’s something he repeats endlessly in his head to not get cocky and actually stay alive in the arena. He’s beaten too many opponents that were too full of themselves to risk being the same.

“You could. No one is safe in the arena, that much is true, but you know that, and that is what makes you different,” Shiro answers without a blink. “Among other things” he snorts right after. 

“What’s your deal, anyway?” Matt asks, riled up by Shiro’s comment, but the Galra looks at him with that same curious sparkle in his eyes as he cocks his head. 

“My deal?”

“Yeah! Why did you bring me here? So far the only thing you asked from me is to call you Shiro.” Matt grunts, he is physically tired and also sick of this little game. 

“Can’t I enjoy some good company from time to time? Believe me, it’s rare to find these days.” Shiro means Lotor’s pack but Matt can’t know that. He hopes it will take some time for the news to reach Lotor’s ears actually or else he doesn’t know what the man will do. Nothing good for sure. 

“Depends on what kind of company you want,” Matt hisses. 

“Oh, I could mean that kind of company if you wish so, but I don’t know if our species are compatible.” The Champion smirks, getting up to sit next to Matt as if to examine him closely. 

“I think they are,” Matt grumbles through clenched teeth. He’s seen enough naked Galra in the communal showers to get a vague idea about the question but regrets immediately answering. 

“Really? I’ll have to keep that in mind then, but not today.” 

The sigh Matt lets out makes Shiro laughs so hard, the couch they sit on shakes softly. It’s cute in a way that Matt shouldn’t even consider but the thought is here anyway, probably because he’s relieved he won’t get the treatment the guards assured him he would, not yet anyway. 

Shiro watches the relief making Matt’s shoulders slump and decides to give the man a break. “That will be all for today,” he says and gets his padd to signal the guards to come and get him. Soon enough they’re here, but Matt is too surprised and exhausted to understand what’s going on, especially when he’s hoisted and tied up again by the guards. 

Just before they cross the threshold Shiro wishes him good luck. “Your mind is on the right track, Matt. I’ll bet on you for your next match, don’t disappoint me.” He winks and with that, they’re off. 

*

For his second match in the arena, Matt fights a new species, which shouldn’t be that surprising but he has met quite a few already. The universe is truly and surely infinite, he thinks, as he watches the new alien. He has a hard time scanning the alien’s weakness but for some reason, he also seems more focused, more determined. Shiro’s words have been echoing in his head endlessly ever since they met several quintants ago. It’s as if hearing “I’ll cheer for you” has made him feel less alone in this big scheme. It’s a trick, he knows that. The Galra wants something from him. What, he doesn’t know. Maybe Shiro just wants his ass and was acting like a gentleman on this first meeting to lure him into a false sense of security? 

The fight lasts a bit; his opponent is covered in protective scales. Coming up with something that could create the opening Matt needs for the final blow is tricky. It’s only after he takes a serious punch in the eye that makes him immediately bleed and almost blinds him that he notices the unprotected patch under their armpit. After that, it’s only a matter of doboshes before the alien’s untimely end. 

The crowd boos Matt like they always do, but he looks at them with his head held high. He won’t cave in. He’s the human that made it alive and he doesn’t care if they like him or not. He wants to beat them at their own game. 

He’s not surprised when he’s dragged to Shiro’s place after his win. He barely has time to clean himself, the arch of his eyebrow still bleeding profusely as it had been deemed unworthy of treatment by the druids. 

Once the guards are out, Shiro seems ready to do that for him, though, and he has a basin ready along with what looks like a medkit. A Galran one but still. He tenses when Shiro approaches him, unties him and makes him sit, lifting his chin with his furry hand while he does a pretty good job at patching him up in silence, only the rustles of his moves disturbing Matt’s quickening breath, especially when Shiro leans close to inspect the results. 

“You were slow, I was wondering when you’d discover the weakness,” he whispers, low. 

“Oh, so sorry to disappoint you, Your Highness,” Matt groans. For some reason, he thought Shiro would praise him, which is ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Maybe he’s only taking care of him because betting on Matt gets him tons of money. Scanning the living room again, albeit with one eye, makes him doubt this new theory though. Shiro doesn’t seem like a man that splurges on anything really. There are hardly any personal belongings in the suite. 

“You did seem more focused, though not enough to avoid a black eye,” Shiro chuckles and cleans everything, taking the kit and basin to another room. He presents so many openings for Matt to attack him or try to escape that it’s confusing. 

“Seriously, why are you so nice to me?” Matt asks more angrily than he would like when Shiro gets back. 

“I told you last time.” Shiro frowns, his tone a tad frustrated. 

“So what? You take care of me because I bring money in for you? Or you’re just trying to seduce me? What is it?!” Matt throws his hands into the air and once they’re back on his lap, closes them into such tight fists his nails dig into his skin. So far Matt has always been good at discerning what people want from him, what are the dangers and safe spots. That’s how he has made it alive so far and for so long, but Shiro is unreadable. Matt can’t admit that he is unable to see what’s ahead of him for the first time.

“I am not trying, am I?” Shiro answers with a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. 

“Because you think I’m into you?!” Matt almost chokes and looks utterly startled, but his cheeks heat up and he hates how the human body works right now. He reasons that he hasn’t been laid in so long and maybe ought to take the matter in his own hands now that he finally has a cell to himself. He doesn’t find Shiro attractive, no—he’s just thirsty for someone to have some fun with. Since Shiro is all there is to Matt’s social life, his body reacts more strongly to him. It’s Stockholm Syndrome he needs to get rid of with a good jerkoff session. Or two. 

“Ah.” Shiro breaks Matt’s existential crisis with that smug smile growing by the second. “I see.” He grabs himself a glass of nunvil and offers some to Matt, who just shakes his head no. “I really do require only your presence, Matt. Being in my place is more lonely than you’d think, and I figured we shared that, but if you hate this so much, then we can call it quits.”

Put like that, Shiro makes a fair point. It put Matt into another mindset to know he has an ‘ally’ now, and someone who can relate to what he is living through on top of that. He has done his best so far to hold onto a plan, to stay as sane as a man in his condition can, building him self-defenses like denial, but how long will that work? And it’s not as if an exit has been in view so far, only the faint hope of gathering enough crumbs to maybe reach his dad one day. Too many ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’. Matt, as a scientist, needs concrete facts. His frail mind will throw him over the edge eventually with the exhaustion of maintaining hope that high when literally nothing points toward a happy ending. He needs to play nice with the only person trying to take his hand; it’s his best chance at the moment. 

“Let’s say I don’t want to call it quits,” he mumbles after a long period of silence, Shiro’s heavy look making him sweat more than he wishes he would. 

“Good. I’ll let you rest now,” Shiro says and leaves the room, just like that. 

“What do you mean ‘rest’?” Matt’s panicked voice shouts from the couch. 

“Sleep. On the couch. Not on the cold dirty floor of your cell,” Shiro answers from what Matt assumes is his own bedroom. 

When he leans back enough to catch sight of the huge Galra changing for the night, he just gulps and blushes some more. Shiro’s back muscles should be illegal, Matt decides, at least, as long as he hasn’t taken care of his ‘issue’.

Matt waits for the trap to be revealed for what seems like vargas, but nothing comes. Shiro doesn’t sneak in to try anything and he suspects the Galra is a light sleeper. Matt would never be able to escape with The Champion in the next room. Against all odds, he finally falls asleep and when the guards throw him back in his cell at dawn, his body actually, for the first time in ages, doesn’t ache that bad. If he jerks off to the stolen glance of Shiro’s naked back, it’s just because he’s thankful. That’s it.

*

This little arrangement goes on for a while. Matt fights and wins. Shiro treats his wounds and lets him sleep on his sofa after they’ve exchanged small talk. Strategies mostly but always with their usual sharp tongues. Shiro teases Matt and Matt falls into ‘that’ trap like a newbie every single time. 

He can’t deny his attraction to the Galra anymore when one night, he moans Shiro’s name as he comes. Shiro is actually intelligent, fascinating and yes, strikingly handsome. At some point, Matt pushes away the initial reasoning that it was just Stockholm Syndrome he was developing. That might as well still be true, but he actually thinks that, under different circumstances, in an alternate reality maybe, he would still fall for Shiro. 

The Galra doesn’t tease him just for the fun of it, but he also never lays hands on him other than to clean his injuries, so Matt is uncertain and he doesn’t like that. 

He’s been named a Thrilliz after his latest fight, gaining a new rank on the Galra social ladder, but he’s surprised when he’s not summoned by Shiro. Matt is still too low-ranked to receive any sort of consideration so there’s no celebration waiting for him as he's shoved back into his cell, merely the half-decent meal he ate after he showered and was gifted a new tunic.

It feels like rejection. 

Has he not been good enough during his fight? He used a move Shiro talked to him about, which provides fewer openings for his adversary. He should be proud of him, in his own way. Matt has learned by now that Shiro praises him through his flaws. “You were slow; you should have seen this sooner; you almost lost a finger this time...” All of those mean that Matt is alive and Shiro is glad he can teach him how to correct his mistakes. 

Maybe Shiro is just busy, but that doesn’t sit better in his stomach. His mouth feels bitter at the idea of Shiro at a post-fight reception. He knows exactly what it is, ugly jealousy over an alien that’s nice to him.

*

Doboshes turn into vargas that turn into quintants when suddenly in the middle of the night, he’s ushered into Shiro’s room by the same couple of guards that usually bring him to Shiro. He knows now that they would do anything for The Champion and are very quiet over the fact that Shiro seems to favor him in a very un-Galra way. They even untie him the moment he is in the room now.

Shiro and Matt face each other silently for a long time, several feet apart. Shiro never says much anyway but tonight it makes fury bloom into Matt’s core. “Why did you fucking abandoned me like that?” he explodes after an extended staring contest. 

“Sometimes I have duties I have to attend,” Shiro states and that calm he portrays makes Matt’s blood boil more. 

“Oh, so you went showing your ass to your admirers? Alright, I get it, must be thrilling to have a room full of people ready to suck your dick,” he spats as he marches dangerously closer to Shiro. 

“Don’t do that,” Shiro growls. 

Matt is startled, but it doesn’t stop him. Shiro is a beast; he can growl and bark all he wants. Matt doesn’t care right now. He’s furious and hasn’t been able to let some steam off with a battle. 

“Or what, Shiro, hm? Or should I say Champion with adoration in my eyes? Would you prefer that?” he whispers smoothly as he sneaks his hands on Shiro’s naked waist, the Galra only wearing the alien equivalent of sweatpants. 

“No.” And for the first time, Shiro’s voice is dark and menacing, but nothing can stop Matt now that he’s on this destructive path.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want me to fall on my knees for you, kitty.” He’s playing with the waistband when Shiro’s hands grab his wrist with so much strength it stops his circulation. Wide eyes are on Shiro instantly. “You’re hurting me,” he hisses as he tries to get free from The Champion’s death grip.

Of course, Shiro desires the human. It’s eaten him alive ever since the guards reported to him about Matt’s solo sessions and how he moans Shiro’s name. It’s not a coincidence that Shiro always undresses in the only part of his room that has a clear sight into the living room. They’ve been playing this game for a while now; it was bound to happen. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted? That’s the first thing you said to me, remember?” He is angry, enraged that Matt can let Shiro become his weakness. The human has barely eaten since his last victory and he knows it’s because of him judging by his accusations of abandonment. “What was it? Ah yeah, rip you in half and fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to fight anymore. I can arrange that, you know. You just have to ask.”

“I’m joking,” Matt says, little tremors in his voice as the grip remains strong. 

“Are you really?” Shiro asks, bringing one wrist to his mouth, nearly lifting Matt from the floor in the process. Shiro licks and grazes his fangs on Matt’s pulse point and the human visibly shivers.

Matt’s shoulder hurts from the way he’s manhandled but he can’t deny that Shiro’s mouth on his skin gives him a little thrill. He’s way past the point where he has accepted his desire for the giant Galra. It’s scary now that it’s about to happen, not only because of Shiro’s feral-like behavior but also because of how big he is. Despite knowing compatibility is possible, it won’t go without trouble and if Shiro’s that angry it could lead to some serious injuries. Why Shiro is mad, though, is beyond Matt’s understanding, since it was Matt who was furious in the first place.

“Why are you the one irritated now, anyway? I’m the annoyed one here!” Matt grunts as Shiro lets go of him and he falls pathetically on the ground. 

“How dare you let yourself getting so weak like that?!” Shiro finally roars, the rage boiling in his veins. 

“Wha- what do you mean?” Matt stutters as he looks up to catch a glimpse of Shiro’s stormy face. 

“Starving yourself because of me?! Do you wish to die so much?” 

“Shut up!” Matt shouts and stumbles to his feet, turning his back to Shiro. If he knows that, then what else the guards have told him? “Why do you care so much anyway? I’m just a fucking distraction in your otherwise boring life.” 

Suddenly he’s pinned against the wall, facing it, the air leaving his lungs with the force of the action. “Then act like one if you really think so,” Shiro purrs in Matt’s ear, his dick poking Matt as he speaks. 

“Fuck you!” Matt shrieks, not convincing anyone on his attempt to escape Shiro’s grasp.

“Now, now, I think that’s my line,” Shiro says and flips Matt before bending and forcing him into a heated kiss.

Stubbornly refusing to open his mouth, Shiro has to pry it open with another bruising grip around his jaw. When their tongue meets, it sends them both a pleasant wave of warmth and Matt suddenly becomes more pliant, moaning into Shiro’s mouth while he lifts him without even bulging a muscle. Matt wraps his legs around his chest and the next thing he knows, his back hits Shiro’s mattress. His clothes are pulled into pieces by claws that scratch his chest and he arches his back with a gasp. 

Shiro stops, kneeling on his bed as he admires Matt’s naked form. He has never seen a human naked before since Matt is the first of his kind to have been captured by his people. He’s small compared to him, frail, fragile even and Shiro really has to calm down or else he’ll break him entirely. To do so, he pulls his pants away and lets Matt watch him in return. Despite Matt having a basic knowledge of male Galran anatomy, Shiro is fairly certain he lacks some information. 

Indeed, as Shiro undresses, Matt almost recoils to the headboard completely. Galran dicks are prehensile, not unlike a fat tentacle: a long bumpy rippled shaft, lilac at the base—the same as Shiro’s skin—ending with a vibrant purple at the tapered tip. The thing is, Shiro is more than long and thick. Matt usually isn’t shy, but there’s no way he can take that, not even half of it. He stares at Shiro with wide eyes, terror hid as much he can, but he can’t help the slight shaking of his hands.

It hurts, for Shiro to see in Matt’s eyes the idea that he could harm him like that, although considering his basic understanding of human anatomy, he can actually see why Matt is reacting this way. The adrenaline from their argument is still in his veins and Shiro is still mad at Matt, but he’s also worried and if he’s honest, he has missed him terribly. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispers in Matt’s ear as he looms above him, a hand on his neck at the base of his skull that he holds firmly. 

“Why?” Matt asks, still trembling even though by the look in Shiro’s grey eyes, he believes him. He just needs to know, to hear the words. That’s why he was furious in the first place. He’s developing feelings for him and he wants to know it’s not unrequited. A belief that crumbled when Shiro had abandoned him. After all, Shiro is his only way of staying sane in this violent and bloodthirsty place.

Shiro blinks. He isn’t exactly surprised, but he didn’t think Matt would ask this now, of all times. “You know why.” His voice is low, a growl, gentle but firm. 

“Tell me.” Matt won’t yield. That’s something Shiro taught him which is ironic in a way. “You left me. You took me under your wing, got me addicted to you and left me in the dark. Suddenly I felt like I was nothing when you’d previously spent nights making me feel like I was worth something more than just some meat and bones that could fight. So yes, Shiro, why are you about to fuck me now? Just make up your mind but don’t toy with me, because as a matter of fact, you already hurt me.”

Shiro feels something roar inside him. His blood boiling again, rage threatening to overcome his reason, but it’s only directed at himself this time. The claws of his hand resting on the mattress next to Matt tear the sheets as he tries to control himself. 

“I- I did that to protect you. I thought you’d only get weaker because of me,” Shiro explains, sincerely, even though his voice is strained like he isn’t used to revealing himself like this. Galra are deceiving people, always plotting and hiding their moves to defend themselves. For all he knows, Matt could use him to get away; that would be a very Galra move. Except, he wants to believe Matt is different. That’s what had attracted him in the first place. He wants to say he is sorry because that’s how he feels, but he can’t. Not when Matt’s mouth is on his and he’s pulling Shiro on top of his delicate body.

It’s an indirect answer to his question, but there’s much more behind those words and the revelation is already heavy enough that Matt just launches himself at Shiro and steals all the air from his lungs. “Don’t do that, ever again,” he threatens as he bites on Shiro’s bottom lip and tugs it with a grin. 

“Or what?” Shiro moans, the sound making his chest rumble. It’s close to a roar and it makes Matt’s cock twitch with interest. Shiro can feel it against his thigh. 

“What?” Matt croaks because he’s gradually losing his track of thoughts. It’s not exactly his fault; it’s more an issue of xenobiology and how fascinating he thinks a prehensile dick is, especially when it’s teasing his rim right now. It’s cold and wet. Matt thinks about how convenient it is that it’s self-lubricating, but then again, in deep space, finding or making lube is neither a priority nor an easy thing to do, probably. Science and evolution and all that jazz. “Fuck I don’t know, I don’t care, I need you,” he babbles and Shiro just smirks, that jerk. He knows exactly what he’s doing to Matt and neither of them wants to admit they love this game. That’s why they’ve been playing hide and seek for so long.

Shiro dips and licks the corded muscles of Matt’s neck, the texture of his tongue making him writhe and swallow his moans as he presses his lips together. “I want to hear you,” Shiro groans against the abused skin, but Matt shakes his head, so Shiro pushes the head of his cock just enough that it stretches Matt’s hole. He’s so slick that it’s actually a good way of entering him and there are enough bumps and veins to distract Matt from the intrusion. It works just fine when he cries out and digs his nails into Shiro’s back. Shiro hisses with the pain, but it’s more pleasure and excitement than actual hurt. 

Matt feels like he’s losing his mind in the best way imaginable. They’ve barely started and he doesn’t know what more could happen, but he feels like he could ascend to heaven with just the little come and go motion of Shiro’s head in him. 

Shiro is big, so big in every single way. He’s dwarfing Matt, hovering above him, almost bending in half just to be able to kiss and lick Matt’s skin. It only looks comfortable because his cock is so long he doesn’t have to have his waist pressed against Matt’s, but at the same time, he feels so far away, so out of reach. 

“Touch me,” Matt begs, because why try to maintain appearances now? He’s long fallen pliant into Shiro’s palm, eager to please him be it in the arena or now in his bed. He waits for a heavy hand to wrap around him but it never comes. Instead, as he glances down, he sees vines like appendages swirl around his cock until the skin disappears from his sight and it jerks him off with a pulsating motion. “What the he- oh fuck!” he cries and it’s just too much stimulation for him. He comes almost instantly, panting and shaking. His muscles tense with every wave of his orgasm that drowns him. 

He thinks he blacked out for a second because when he comes to himself, gone are the things around his dick or Shiro in him. Instead, he’s cradled between a mountain of pillows with a very smug Shiro lying on his side, looking at him. 

“You’re easy to please,” Shiro says and Matt wants to punch that smile out of his handsome face. Instead, he just reddens more and sinks further down in what he imagines is some kind of nest.

“Humans are uh… well...” He looks down at himself and suddenly feels like he’ll be rather boring for a Galra like Shiro. “...Not as finely equipped. It was overwhelming, to say the least.”

“Oh,” is all Shiro says and smiles as he lets a claw lightly brush Matt’s dick. 

“Hey, stop that.” Matt tries to battle away from the hand but only half-heartedly. It’s hard to pretend he doesn’t want Shiro’s attention now when he basically threw a tantrum from being ‘abandoned’ by him these last few quintants.

Shiro just sniggers and moves closer to kiss Matt long and deep, his fangs teasing Matt’s mouth with each move. He pulls his bottom lip at last before whispering with his velvety smooth voice, “I have to send you back soon.”

And that’s how Matt is brutally brought back to reality because surely enough, he felt like a free man in Shiro’s embrace and completely forgot about his life as a property of the Galran Empire. It definitely feels like a slap in the face, and he is overwhelmed by the urge to take a shower and be as far away from Shiro as possible.

“Sure,” he says, his voice cracking with the weight of his sudden sadness, his body recoiling farther away from the warmth coming from Shiro.

“Hey,” Shiro tries, careful and gentle. “It’s not because I want to, you know that?” 

Matt nods but it’s half-hearted. 

“I don’t,” Shiro insists and pauses, unsure. There’s something else he wants to say. He knows it’s too soon, but he hates the look on Matt’s face and his body language at the moment. “There’s a reason I’ve been attending so many parties lately.” 

Matt casts him a slightly angered look at the mention of his absence. 

“I’m trying to find a way to get you out of here,” Shiro finally admits. It’s not easy for him because it makes him show Matt all of his cards and admittedly he doesn’t really have a full deck right now. In fact, his poker game is rather mediocre because he hasn’t gathered much intel but he thinks he’s making progress still, albeit slowly.

“I won’t leave without my father…” Matt whispers and now there’s something else unsaid hanging between them. Another possibility, another person that could run away with him. While he doesn’t say it, Shiro knows there’s an invitation somewhere here. 

“I know.” Shiro smiles tenderly and takes Matt in his arms now that he doesn’t look so tense, but rather more interested in this new turn of events. “But you ought to know I can’t just go around and ask about the location of the other human. We need to be more careful than that.” 

It feels nice, the ‘we’. Shiro is unconsciously, or not, integrating him in this dangerous plan of his, but Matt isn’t afraid. As cheesy and corny as it sounds he feels stronger with Shiro by his side. “What can I do to help?” Matt asks although, for his part, he knows there’s nothing much he can do, which Shiro confirms with a light shrug and a shake of his head.

“You need to stay alive,” is what he asks for and sure enough Matt has a renewed interest in the whole ‘being alive’ concept now that he finally seems to have difficult but brighter days ahead. 

“It was stupid of me… It’s just…”

“I know.” Shiro cuts him with a kiss and whispered words. Because he does know what it’s like to fight for your life quintant after quintant and to be reduced to an entertaining puppet, every single basic right stolen from you with an ease that shouldn’t even exist anymore. No one is strong enough to put up with that crap for long, not even Shiro. You get tired and injured and lonely to a point where you just want this to end, no matter how.

Sometimes, it’s easy for Matt to forget that Shiro was a gladiator just like he is right now and that he had to climb each step of the Galran social ladder with claws, bruises, and bloodied fur; but Shiro’s ability to remember his past is something Matt loves about him. Because he understands him better than anyone else.

*

Ultimately, Matt looks very well fucked when he’s escorted back to his cell that early morning and that’s when the rumors start to spread like wildfire. It was always a possibility before but now there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind. The Champion uses the human as his fuck boy. It pisses Matt off to no end and makes Shiro laugh, but in the end, the result is still a positive one: whenever an opponent accuses Matt of being The Champion’s whore, he goes feral and it leads to his victory.

It’s not Shiro’s preferred method of winning, but it still ensures Matt’s survival.

Until it doesn’t.

It happens very suddenly and unexpectedly, even for the audience that has started to like the frail human the more he competes. 

The whole arena is roaring with cheers of Matt’s name when the supposedly dead opponent twitches and gives such a blow to Matt’s side that he’s escorted immediately out toward the druids’ area. 

Shiro’s hands work on their own as they open and click something on his padd, and he’s on his way before his brain can even process what’s going on, finding himself unable to enter the room, a couple of guards blocking his way.

“You can’t go in,” one of them says as if the set of spears crossed in front of him aren’t explaining enough. 

“Why not? You know who I am. This is my ground; I can go wherever I wish to.” Shiro frowns, his fangs grazing his bottom lip and showing his frustration mixed with helplessness. It’s not like he can do anything anyway. He’s no physician, but Shiro quickly spots Ulaz, the actual doctor assigned to arena prisoners, and calls for his help. 

“You’re too close to the human, Champion,” Ulaz says shaking his head with a sigh. He has known Shiro most of his life. Ulaz knows every scar: the ones marking Shiro’s skin and the ones inside his mind. He is more of a father to Shiro than just a man patching him up. Yet, Ulaz can’t override an order that comes from anyone above Shiro in the hierarchy, which means it’s probably Lotor’s doing…

Shiro has prepared himself for this possibility. He knows Lotor and his cunning plans and has worked to thwart them ever since the Prince took an interest in him. “Because he belongs to me,” Shiro announces, lifting his padd for the guards and Ulaz to see the payment confirmation. 

“You bought him?” Ulaz asked visibly surprised. 

It’s not uncommon for higher-ups to buy fighters, but the implications are heavy and Ulaz wouldn’t have thought Shiro to ever do such a thing. He suspects that Shiro and Matt are closer than he had expected. 

It’s admittedly not Shiro’s smartest move; he knows that, but he was desperate and scared he would lose him. “Yes.” He nods, trying to hide the shake of his whole body as he’s granted permission to step in and is escorted to Matt. 

There’s blood everywhere. Matt is restless and feverish, crying desperately as the druids have decided to leave him here to die. “He’s not salvageable,” they told Ulaz, who in turn informs Shiro. They deemed him unfit to ever return to the arena, so they won’t waste their time healing him if he serves no more purpose for the Galra Empire. 

“He’s my property now. You have a responsibility toward your Champion; you have to save him,” Shiro groans. His anger is not directed at Ulaz, but he can’t be rational when Matt is calling for him in his delusional state. 

“I will do my best.”

Shiro knows that Ulaz will do more than that and that he’s a bit at risk here. Sure Shiro’s right and he has to listen to him, but if Ulaz has different orders he hasn’t told him about. The physician’s safety is at stake and all for a mere human’s sake. 

Instead of thanking him, Shiro puts his hand on the Ulaz’s shoulder and squeezes it once before going to Matt’s side. It’s only the three of them and Ulaz knows anyway, so Shiro doesn’t care that he has company when he brushes Matt’s damp hair off of his sweaty forehead with the tip of his claw and kisses the burning skin before he leaves the premises. 

*

Pain is the first thing Matt thinks about when he wakes up. He’s having the headache of his life and there’s a huge bandage on his right side where he is pretty sure he’s missing a monstrous chunk of skin. 

“You’re up I see,” the main physician announces as he comes in to check on Matt. 

“What happened?” he croaks, and he thinks he may have been out way longer than he would presume “How long have I been here?”

“Misjudgment on your part and a very nasty injury I had to repair to keep you alive for the Champion,” the physician casually announces as he cleans the wound. Sure enough, there’s the unmistakable mark of claws on Matt’s waist. It looks nasty but on its way to being healed. “We had to keep you under for a couple of quintants,” the physician says. 

Memories are coming back to Matt slowly and what the physician says makes sense, so he doesn’t question it. What doesn’t make sense is why he’s still alive. Matt knows very well how it works; he should be dead by now according to Galran customs. “What does The Champion have to do with me being alive?” he wonders even though he’s fairly certain he won’t like the answer. 

“Because you’re his slave,” the physician replies and looks at Matt like this shouldn’t be any news to him. “Didn’t you both agree on that?”

Matt’s blood is boiling and it’s no fever or any other affliction. He swears he can see the man smirking, especially when the impressive mass of muscles that is Shiro appears in the doorway.

“Matt.” Shiro’s voice is hopeful and frail in a way Matt has never heard before. It breaks his heart a bit to know Shiro must have been in such a worried state over the past vargas. “Ulaz.” Shiro acknowledges the physician with a nod the respect between these two is clear as day. There are more unspoken words in that single head movement than Matt has ever seen. 

“Shiro,” Ulaz answers back with the same slight tilt of his head. “I’ll let you guys talk before coming back to release you.” And with that, The Champion and Matt are left together, a gap between them that seems bigger than it really is.

“Before you scream at me, let it be known that I did this to save you,” Shiro starts with a hand raised to silence Matt just long enough.

It makes sense now as well. Shiro bought Matt in a desperate attempt to have a reason to save him. Still, Matt doesn’t like ‘belonging’ to someone in such a way. He obviously wants to be Shiro’s, but not his slave. “Should I thank you, Master?” Matt groans, obviously displeased and Shiro’s ears twitch hearing with the last word. “What…?” Matt asks even more suspiciously, “Wait. What kind of slave am I, Shiro?” And the face Shiro is making is enough of an answer to Matt who shuts his eyes and dramatically sighs. “Why in the hell did you do that?!”

“It’s not like I had time to think about it, you know!” Shiro tries to defend himself but in reality, he wouldn’t really have been able to buy Matt any differently. “And it’s not like people aren’t already thinking that you and I screw each other…” he grumbles. 

“But a sex slave, Shiro! You’re basically confirming I’m a whore…” 

“My whore.” 

“You’re the worst…”

“I am not; also it saved your life, and it’s not like I’ll treat you differently.” Shiro stops there for a while and scratches the back of his neck with an awkward look. “I mean not while it’s just the two of us…”

“I hate you…”

“No, you don’t,” Shiro answers immediately and walks a couple of steps closer. “Besides,” he says with his voice suddenly smoother and darker, just how he knows Matt likes it. “You get to live with me now. No more ‘sending you back to your cell’. You know, Champion’s privileges and all.”

Matt is secretly relieved he doesn’t have to settle into the bed slaves’ quarters but he won’t give Shiro the satisfaction by saying so. “It still sucks.” 

“I know… But I couldn’t let you die…” Shiro admits. He’s so much more vulnerable ever since they got together and it wins Matt’s heart every time without fail. 

“Thanks…” 

Matt offers his left hand and Shiro closes the distance between them with careful, silent steps before taking the delicate skin in his furry palm, his thumb claw gently scratching Matt’s hand in a loving gesture. 

*

The traditional outfit for bed slaves isn’t exactly Matt’s favorite, to say the least. In fact, he loathes it. It’s too skimpy and revealing. He’s thankful he hardly ever has to wear it, which is, unfortunately for him, not the case at the moment. It’s for a good cause, he knows that, and he still has a lot of fun teasing Shiro with it, but it still makes him feel self-conscious. 

“You are beautiful,” Shiro whispers in Matt’s ear as he places his strong hands on his waist, hugging him from behind and trailing soft kisses on the sensitive skin he can reach. It makes Matt shiver and his knees go weak every time. No matter what Shiro does, Matt is utterly and ridiculously under his spell. 

“You say that every time I wear this. You just want to fuck me,” he chuckles.

“Well, yeah.” Shiro shrugs behind him, but Matt can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Unfortunately, we have more important things to do,” he gently admonishes. Their plan is slowly starting to take form and they’re close to finding the location of Matt’s dad. They have decided on everything else: the escape route, the ship they’ll take and their obvious destination. Matt doesn’t know how he’ll hide his giant purple cat-like boyfriend when they’re back on Earth, but that’s a problem for later.

They are interrupted by the grand arrival of Lotor, the couple having to play their ‘official’ part as the Prince takes a seat on Shiro’s couch like it’s natural for him. Lotor’s charisma is strong enough that he looks like he could win almost everything with just a glance. Matt and Shiro like to think they don’t fall into that category but Lotor really owns them both one way or another. Still, they don’t want to fall into his game, which is proving to be hard at the moment.

“I see you are still not tired of your little toy,” Lotor says instead of a hello. Matt tries very hard not to flinch whenever Lotor speaks like he’s not in the room, which happens way more than he would like, but he’s just a ‘lowly’ bed slave. The only sounds he should make are moans whenever his owner takes him, so he keeps a low profile. Instead of biting Lotor’s head off, he sits diligently at Shiro’s feet, leaning against his leg like the good puppy he should be, and yes, leash included. Matt always feels so queasy whenever Shiro clips it on his collar and no amount of kisses or hugs or whispered apologies from Shiro can chase this feeling away.

“What can I say, he’s one of a kind.” Shiro runs his left hand in Matt’s hair, scratching the skin tenderly while he pretends he’s calm and not actually wanting to growl at his prince for speaking badly about his mate. 

“You know that’s not true,” Lotor says as he gets up and goes to pour himself a drink. As he plops back down on the couch with all his royal grace, he continues in between sips of Shiro’s alcohol, “He came in with another one. I told you about it already.” He sighs dramatically, exasperated that he has to repeat himself. “My father recently transferred him with his team of scientists. I guess that, unlike yours, this one is rather intelligent.”

Shiro presses harder on Matt’s neck to prevent him from jumping from his place on the ground. It’s not like he doesn’t want him to do that, but they can’t risk anything, especially now. 

Movement after movement, Shiro has been inviting Lotor to lure him to think he would finally give in to his seduction, making him reveal more information each time. 

They already know that Sam is on Zarkon’s Central Command System ship, but it’s not exactly small, so locating him with more precision had been hard until now. 

Shiro can’t help but think that this is way too easy, but Matt is always so happy and pushing for them to finally move and run away from this ‘life’, so he keeps it quiet if only not to crush his hope.

“That’s not any of my concern anyway, so why would I remember?” Shiro fakes a lack of interest in the matter and the conversation quickly shifts after that. 

Lotor likes to hear himself talk and even though Shiro isn’t usually a suitable audience for it, he does his best for Matt’s sake. 

And for the most part, Matt is thankful that Shiro puts so much effort into tolerating Lotor’s presence, but he can’t help the spikes of jealousy that make his insides burn with the need to reclaim Shiro after each of Lotor’s visits.

It’s almost always the same ritual: Matt crawls onto Shiro’s lap the moment he leaves. “I can’t stand him being near you, touching you,” he whispers in the crook of Shiro’s neck, marking the skin with careful bites while Shiro throws away the leash. “Thinking he’ll get into your pants when I’m the only one allowed to do that.”

Mumbling a barely audible ‘yes’, Shiro tilts his head to the side and almost hisses as he feels Matt’s slender fingers slip under his waistline and down his cock. He palms it deliberately. It’s funny how the small human hand can provide so much more pleasure than a Galran one. It has access to spots Shiro never knew were sensitive and most of all, it’s selfless. The only thing Matt wants is to make Shiro feel good. Well, mostly selfless as Matt also wants to remind Shiro that no one else can make him feel that way. As if Shiro had any intention of leaving Matt or has even contemplated it.

Matt’s small hand is dwarfed by Shiro’s size, but he learned how to use it to the fullest and Shiro is panting and grunting hard by the time Matt presses Shiro’s tip inside him. They both moan and the sound is quickly swallowed as they kiss. Nothing between them looks urgent anymore. Everything goes slowly and they take their sweet time, exploring the other’s mouth, the other’s body. 

The soft press of their lips, the delicate caress of their tongue, a possessive hand in Matt’s hair, nails digging into Shiro’s shoulder as Matt works his way down Shiro’s cock with lascivious sways of his hips… It’s all about making love and being one. 

It’s way too sappy, talking about them like that, but in all honesty, they think it’s just the most perfect way to describe them. 

Matt’s head is pressed against Shiro’s upper chest and their moans echo each other’s. There’s barely space left between them, and as far as sex goes it feels even more intimate that way, a secret shared only together. And it technically is their secret. Everyone thinks Shiro uses Matt but only the two of them know the truth.

When Matt’s fingers start to dig deep in Shiro’s fur, he takes charges and brings Matt to his climax with gentle strokes with what Matt jokingly refers to as Shiro’s tentacles. Matt’s voice gets higher pitched as he paints Shiro’s abs and Shiro follows soon, preventing Matt from exerting himself further by lifting him and cuddling him. 

Head resting on Shiro’s shoulder, they stay silent for a while, exchanging light touches and soft kisses until the elephant in the room makes itself known again and they share strategic ideas about their escape.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Matt whispers as they go to bed and fall asleep holding on to each other. 

Shiro is unsure but he doesn’t voice that thought. He’ll protect Matt and his father no matter the cost and risks, so instead, he says “yes”. A promise he knows he’ll fulfill.

*

It’s no surprise to Shiro that nothing goes according to plan and he thinks that somewhere in his mind, Matt had always envisioned the possibility as well. They got Sam at least, but the moment they stepped out the scientist aisle, everything went south.

Matt’s dad is slightly hurt from all the fights they’ve gone through just to make it to the docked ships, but he is relatively safe inside their now-surrounded vessel. Shiro stands protectively in front of Matt while Lotor triumphantly makes his way to them, sentries and guards opening a path and almost looking as if they’ll throw down a red carpet for him. As if his ego needs that.

“You really think I am this stupid?” Lotor sounds the same as ever, full of himself and smug.

Shiro shrugs, knowing it will enrage the Prince.

Lotor’s jaw is tight and his hand tightens on his sword’s handle. “You will be punished for this.”

“That doesn’t exactly scare me and you know that. My entire existence has been punishment simply because I was born different.” 

Matt had learned quickly why Shiro had been a gladiator all his life. His fur was too lightly-colored and his eyes… Unnatural, the mark of the evil in the Galran culture… Scared, his parents had abandoned him in the hands of trainers. He was not even worth being sold.

“You could have had everything; you could have deposed of my father if you wanted. As The Champion, you could have held the galaxy in the palm of your hand!” Lotor grunts with frustration.

Shiro’s hand takes Matt’s like a clear answer. This is what he wants to hold for the rest of his life.

Lotor raises his sword, his stance changing until he’s clearly ready to fight. Guards are taking position behind him and it’s the opening Shiro needed. He turns briefly toward Matt, knowing Lotor will never strike a man with his back turned to him. “You need to go now. Blast the cargo door and make a run for it.” 

“No… No Shiro don’t, please…” Matt’s voice is trembling and he’s shaking his head weakly. 

It’s his only chance to get his father away. Matt has a basic piloting experience and his dad probably knows a lot about the way the ship works. If they don’t bring The Champion with them, he knows they have a chance. No one will go after them; they’re just two humans of little importance. 

“I can’t do this without you…” Matt shivers when Shiro’s flesh hand runs over his cheek and wipes the tears that have started to fall without him realizing. 

“You can and you will. I’ll put all my money on it.” Shiro tries to smile as he kisses Matt’s forehead. It’s oddly reminiscent of the first time they met and it fits ironically well now that they’re about to part ways. 

“I’ll come back for you,” Matt says fierce and determined. “I will.” 

“I know…” Shiro smiles and it’s genuine this time. Matt is nothing if not stubborn. “Now go!” Shiro kisses him desperately, one last time, and pushes him inside the ship, his blade activating as he turns to face Lotor. Their swords collide with a burst of plasma energy from Shiro’s weapon. 

Matt doesn’t have time for last words like “I love you,” nor he can even cast a last glance. He has to focus on getting his dad and himself out of trouble, so he does what he was told.

When he finally risks looking at Shiro, the faint remains of his hopes crumble and fall apart when Lotor’s blade plunges into Shiro’s side and the giant Galra falls on his knees.

Some promises are harder to fulfill than others…

**Author's Note:**

> Before you throw stones at me xD keep in mind that the situation can be as extreme as you think it is OR you can have a little bit of hope. I want this to be up to your interpretation ^^ 
> 
> Wow, what a ride... Writing this level of angst has been a challenge for me and I'm very happy I got to do this with my favorite couple! It's been painful, to say the least! Even for me as a writer, I promise you that doing this to Shiro gave me nightmares ;; 
> 
> I want to thank my terrific artist PrincelyAffairs because ISN'T THAT PIC AMAZING?!?!?!?!?! I feel so honored that I had the chance to work with her! You can find her works [here](https://princely-affairs.tumblr.com/tagged/my+art)
> 
> Also a huge thanks to [Muse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museaway) for beta-ing my fic ^^ Go check her wonderful works! 
> 
> And thanks to my best friend who came up with the title!!
> 
> Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this and keep your eyes open, a lot of amazing works are coming up for the VLD Angst Bang 2019! Also, feel free to come and talk with me here on [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/teactoc)
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment if you feel like brightening an author's day! Really it always means a lot to me. I answer to all comments unless they're from friends which means I've probably showered them with my love already xD 
> 
> See ya ~


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